


An Unfortunate School Day

by MusicLover19



Series: The Menstruation Bonding [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Menstruation, Trans Character, Trans Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover19/pseuds/MusicLover19
Summary: Stiles was normally more prepared than this. He always made sure to carry extranecessitieswith him. It was stupid of him not to check; he should change that. Luckily help arrived in the form of someone a little shocking.





	An Unfortunate School Day

Stiles could feel himself shaking as he walked through the halls. He was moving as fast as he could, still trying to look as calm as he could to anyone he passed. Even though no one so much as glanced in his direction, it felt as though everyone was staring. Stiles knew that it was all inside of his mind, but he couldn’t help shying away from brushing against people as he powerwalked through the halls.

“Jackson!” Stiles shouted, rushing over to the guy. He was the first person that Stiles had recognised, and he admitted to himself that he might just have been a little narrow sighted in his searching. Only a few people knew Stiles well enough to know about _this_ particular issue and as many problems that Stiles and Jackson had, he wouldn’t be too much of a jackass about it all – probably. “Jackson – Scott – have you seen him?” Stiles asked, he cringed a little as he heard his own voice shake. Stiles should have been more prepared; he normally _was_ prepared. He had just forgotten to top up his own supplies.

“Why –” Jackson’s question stopped before he had a chance to fully think over what he wanted to say. “You smell like blood,” he settled on. “ _A lot_ of blood.”

If Stiles was in any better mood, he might have laughed a little at how genuinely worried Jackson looked, it had only been a second before his indifferent mask was back in place. Jackson _always_ had that mask in place, and Stiles took it as a personal victory every single time he was able to shift it just slightly. It was even more of a victory when Jackson showed his _squishy_ side, it was there, just hidden under several thick layers of arrogance.

“Have you seen Scott?” Stiles asked again, the tremor in his voice still present. “I _need_ Scott.”

“No, McCall is god knows where,” Jackson shrugged. “What do you need?”

“What –”

“You smell like blood, what do you need? A first aid kit? Coach has one.”

Stiles knew that he looked a little like a fish, his eyes and mouth wide open as he stared at the boy in front of him. Jackson knew, of course, they had known each other since they were young children. They had never truly been _close_ , only really on the edges of each other’s social circles. If Stiles thought hard enough, he might recall the odd _playdate_ between the two of them arranged by their mother’s. Strangely enough, Jackson had never once used Stiles’ gender against Stiles. Sure, the guy had pointed out how weak Stiles was, how stupid he could be, and even how pathetic he was, but he had never once sunk to reminding Stiles that he was born a female. Maybe Jackson had forgotten, although Stiles didn’t see how that might happen. It made more sense than to say that Jackson had a moral code about how he bullied someone though.

“I’m _not_ going to Coach,” Stiles squeaked. “Do you know where Lydia is then?” he asked. He just needed _someone_ who would be able to help.

With a sigh, Jackson grasped Stiles’ upper arm, pulling him through the hall despite the males’ protest. Stiles didn’t try too much to escape, aware that Jackson wouldn’t be stupid enough to make a spectacle and _then_ hurt him in front of witnesses, and if Stiles was being honest, he did trust the jackass a little more than he wanted to admit.

“Look, I have some things if you need them –”

“You have – you can’t mean –”

“Don’t say it,” Jackson hissed. They weren’t too far from his locker, and as soon as they reached it, Jackson put the combination in and pushed Stiles in front of the door. “Just take what you need.”

“I –” Stiles was a little speechless, something that Jackson never normally was able to cause. In fact, there were very few people that managed to make Stiles speechless. Sure enough, just like Jackson hinted, in the back corner of his locker, only just visible beyond the books, was a box of tampons. Unable to stop the smile that made itself known on Stiles’ face, he reached over and grabbed one. It was charmingly nice of the jerk – not that he would ever say as much to Jackson’s face.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, escaping for the restrooms once again.

As he fled he heard Jackson’s last shout of; “Clean yourself up Stilinski!” Jackson was a complete jerk, but he was a _soft_ jerk. With that knowledge, Stiles hurried through the hallways, still grinning to himself.

The rest of the day, Stiles made a point to avoid the sensitive-nosed folk, aware that he still smelt of blood, after all, there was only so much cleaning that he could do in the small toilet stalls. Stiles was just looking forward to getting home and being _clean_. It was silly, the dirtiness that he imagined clinging to him, but he couldn’t help it. It was blood, and _typically_ people didn’t stay covered in blood for too long.

“Are you ok?”

Stiles blinked, looking up and catching Isaac’s eye. He couldn’t help but groan. There was only this last lesson left and Stiles hadn’t remembered that Isaac was a part of it.

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, trying to smile.

Isaac sat next to him, shocking Stiles as his normal table buddy was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, he spotted the quiet girl that usually sat next to him. She was sat with another girl, both of them leant close together and talking softly. In fact, most of the room seemed to have paired up.

“We have a project,” Isaac explained, noticing Stiles’ confusion. “Do you need to go to the nurse?”

“I’m good,” Stiles shrugged. “I’ve had a lot worse and as soon as I get home it won’t be an issue.”

“You’re bleeding again,” Isaac frowned.

“You have no tact at all, I swear,” Stiles groaned. He refrained from hitting his head against the table, he could handle it without resorting to violence. “Yes,” he said, the word quiet and low. “I am bleeding, now _please_ keep your voice down.”

“If you’re hurt you should –”

“I’m not hurt,” Stiles interrupted, he gave Isaac a look, hoping that everything he needed to say would be explained within it, but the teen just continued to look clueless. “Oh my god, you’re going to make me do it,” he groaned.

Taking the hint, Isaac leant forward. Stiles knew it was for his own benefit rather than to hear what he was saying. Perhaps it was just to give the illusion of them both working and not just talking about anything and everything. Either way, Stiles appreciated the effort.

“Ok, don’t say anything and we are not having this conversation again, understood?” Stiles asked. He waited for Isaac to nod before he continued. “I’m _only_ telling you this because of that stupid nose and the fact my business isn’t just my business because werewolves have no respect for privacy.”

“You don’t have to –”

“You’re curious,” Stiles sighed. “Just – don’t mention it afterwards.” Stiles didn’t know how he was going to say it; he hadn’t really _come out_ to people in years. He hadn’t needed to. His doctors were all the same ones he had seen since he was young, so they knew of his whole situation, and outside of them, no one else _needed_ to know. Even Peter, who had been the most recent to find out and actually talk about it, hadn’t had to hear the words directly from Stiles. It had been freeing for someone to find out without being told, and for them to not even question it, or act shocked. Stiles had never had that when he told someone.

Stiles could see the confused look Isaac gave him, as he tried to keep his breathing calm. He knew that his heartbeat was giving him away to the wolf. It had been _so_ long since Stiles had said it. Why was it so difficult? ‘ _I menstruate’_ , ‘ _I have periods’_ , ‘ _I used to be a female’_ , ‘ _I have a vagina’_ , any of those options would work but the words wouldn’t leave his brain. Stiles hadn’t felt this nervous about it in a long time, maybe not even since he had told Scott. Sure, telling his dad had been difficult, he had stumbled over his _‘Dad, I think I’m a boy, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me_ ’ but telling Scott had been terrifying. By that point, Stiles knew that it wasn’t going to change. He had told his dad in the hopes of figuring something out, and it was after a few talks with various therapists and doctors that they both accepted it. There had still been a few long nights where Stiles had insisted on finding something to make him normal whilst his dad held him.

_“Stiles, I’ll admit, I don’t understand this at all. It doesn’t change that I love you, boy or girl. You are my child and if this is what makes you feel like_ you _, then this is what we’re going to do.”_ It had dissolved into Stiles crying, held tight in his father’s arms and still so confused. The weeks after, they had cut Stiles’ hair (really short like Stiles wanted, he needed the jarring change from his previous shoulder length hair), and he had gotten different clothes and Stiles felt more himself than he could remember. Even with the fact he had gone by his nickname for years.

By the time Stiles told Scott, there was a fear that Stiles hadn’t felt when telling his dad. The thought of his dad not loving him hadn’t crossed his mind, he knew his dad would listen and help him figure out what was wrong with him. Scott was still young and just a friend, Stiles hadn’t understood what he was feeling so he didn’t think Scott would either. In the process of telling his friend, Stiles had managed to work himself up to a panic attack. It was in the aftermath that Stiles told him, Scott had laughed a little at first before realising Stiles was serious, and then asked a few questions before accepting it without any other prompting. There had been no malicious intent in Scott’s questions; ‘ _Do you have a – you know_?’, ‘ _Does your dad know_?’, ‘ _Are you sure_?’, ‘ _How do you know_?’. They had spent the night talking, Stiles explaining what he remembered from the various therapists and specialists that they had spoken to. It was exhausting but Scott was curious, he wanted to know as much as he could to help. His friend had become a sudden force in Stiles’ life, insisting on ‘boy nights’, sleepovers, and even doing the manly work around both houses (which had almost always ended in disaster, with Melissa and Noah both watching with smile as they tried to figure out a way to correct whatever they had broken).

They were fond memories to Stiles, even amongst the anxiety that he had felt. Scott had been the one to help Stiles through the change in school. It had been terrifying to move into classes knowing that everyone thought he was strange. Even knowing that not all of them knew and were wondering about the sudden change had been enough to make Stiles feel nauseated. Scott had gotten into trouble by hitting a few kids in those early days that didn’t switch pronouns quickly enough to satisfy Scott’s renewed desire to protect Stiles.

However, Isaac wasn’t Scott. He hadn’t been around for that time in Stiles’ life, not like most of the school. As much as Stiles wanted to tell himself that he wouldn’t care if Isaac sneered or used it against him, he knew it was a lie. No matter how neutral Stiles felt about a person, having them throw that in his face would always hurt, no matter who the culprit was.

“I – ok, so, I’m trans,” Stiles said quickly, hoping to rip the Band-Aid off. Perhaps if he said it quick enough, Isaac wouldn’t hear it or question it.

“Oh.”

Stiles waited, ready to hear whatever else Isaac was going to say. Minutes passed by slowly.

“Oh?” Stiles repeated a little hysterically, although he managed to keep his voice down. “Is that all you have to say?”

“There’s nothing to say,” Isaac shrugged, and all of a sudden Stiles had an urge to kiss him right then and there. “It’s none of my business and I’m sorry you were pushed to tell me,” he added. “You said you didn’t want me to talk about it.”

“You don’t –” Stiles cut his own question off quickly, unsure about what he might hear and not being ready to hear it at all.

“There’s weirder things,” Isaac said with a shrug. “It explains the blood.”

Stiles left out a quiet chuckle. He felt silly for how nervous he had been. It was nice to just be accepted though, and for the rest of the lesson, Stiles let himself swim in that feeling. He knew that Isaac was explaining their project, but the words were not any clearer than they had been before Isaac had appeared next to him.

**_I told Isaac, explain later but can I shower at yours?_** Stiles sent the message hoping to get a response before the lesson ended.

“Peter?” Isaac asked.

“Snooper,” Stiles grumbled half-heartedly. “But yes, I want to make sure he’s home before I take over his place.”

“Are… are you two – you know,” Isaac asked, “together?”

Stiles would forever deny the redness of his cheeks or how quickly they had brightened up under that question. They hadn’t finalised anything, and Stiles didn’t know the right answer to that question, which might have been telling enough.

“He’s… a catch – I suppose,” Isaac said with a grimace. “He’s not planning a murder spree again?”

“No,” Stiles laughed, it was short and loud as it exploded out of him in shock. He ducked his head, hiding the blush and the smile as the whole class looked back at the two of them. “No spree,” Stiles added at a much more reasonable volume.

“Good,” Isaac nodded. “Does anyone know?”

“Not really,” Stiles shrugged, noticing that the heads had mostly returned to their work. “It’s nothing really, he’s just helping me through the rough days. Pain relief and all of that,” Stiles tried to explain. It was a lacking explanation, and Stiles knew it, thankfully Isaac didn’t call him out on it.

The two fell into an easy silence, neither working or worrying about what was happening. Stiles just hoped that Isaac had enough knowledge about what they should be doing for whatever they had been assigned.

The lesson ended suddenly enough to jar Stiles out of his mind once again, Peter had responded, letting Stiles know that his shower was always available to him. So Stiles made his way over to Peter’s after school without a single hesitation.

Peter must have heard the roar of the jeep, since he was waiting at the door for Stiles, his arms wide and ready to catch Stiles as he leant into the warmth of Peter’s body.

“How did it go?” Peter asked.

“Better than expected, but still horrible. I haven’t said it in a long time and Jackson was confusingly _soft_ ,” Stiles sneered the word like it was offensive. “I just want to feel clean and get rid of all the blood because I couldn’t do that at school.”

“The shower is all yours darling,” Peter said smoothly, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek.

“You have no idea how much I love your stupidly big shower,” Stiles groaned, he stepped back, frowning as he left Peter’s arms but eager to stand under the warm spray of water. “Cuddles afterwards? Maybe a movie as well?”

“Whatever you want, and you can tell me about today.”

“I could tell you about it in the shower and you’d probably hear it all clearly,” Stiles pointed out. It was something that he had made a point to remind himself each time he had used Peter’s shower, because there were some times that he had been tempted to do that wasn’t suitable to _actually_ do in a werewolf’s home, and as nice as Peter was, Stiles knew he wouldn’t let it go if he had overheard some of it. Maybe it could be something for the future, once they had settled the confusing mess that they were. Stiles just didn’t feel up to having that conversation yet. He would rather stay in the unknown, away from the possibility that Peter’s charm and off-hand comments were nothing more than a way to put Stiles at ease.


End file.
